


The Marquess

by EndlessSkies64



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 21:30:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15542547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndlessSkies64/pseuds/EndlessSkies64
Summary: Count Hannibal Lecter of Lithuania smiled behind the newspaper he had been pretending to read for the past 10 minutes. The article, on suspicious activity in Germany, held little interest compared to the conversation of the three women sitting across the aisle.





	The Marquess

Count Hannibal Lecter of Lithuania smiled behind the newspaper he had been pretending to read for the past 10 minutes. The article, on suspicious activity in Germany, held little interest compared to the conversation of the three women sitting across the aisle.

Under any other circumstance, eavesdropping would be out of the question, but he could hardly deny the satisfaction his ravenous curiosity desired. Especially not when the conversation involved his dear friend. 

A plump woman raised her equally pudgy fingers skyward, halting the conversation. "Wait a minute!" she squeaked in a nail-biting high voice. "Let me see if I have this right. Aldris Du Maurier died this past spring, and he left everything to his unmarried daughter?"

A thin woman with an upturned nose sneered. "Yes, Franny for the last time, yes." 

Hannibal flinched as the woman named Franny shrieked in response. "How scandalous!"

The sneering woman from before huffed in agreement. "Scandalous indeed. I don't understand why the council didn't stop the old Marquess's will." 

The third woman with a noble nose and a posh voice smiled before chiming in. "Well from what I hear the Queen is quite chummy with the new Marquess. She put in a good word with the King."

The woman with the upturned nose snorted in an unladylike manner. "A pretty ankle will turn even the noblest of heads to mush. To allow a woman to retain such a high position is ridiculous. We are on the brink of war. A woman cannot be expected to respond adequately should the king call on her."

Franny hummed in agreement. "I agree with Prudence. She will never meet the standard of horse-breeding her father set." Her high-pitched voice carried over the sound the train rattling against the tracks. 

"Oh hush up you old busybody!" snapped the posh woman from before. "You know as well as I that she has surpassed the standards her father set." The plump woman stared aghast in her seat as the woman with a noble nose sneered in Prudence's direction. "Prudence's sour disposition stems from the new Marquesses refusal to marry her spineless grandson." 

Prudence gasped, her face red with anger. "How dare you utter such slander Grace!" 

Grace scoffed loudly. "Accept the facts, Prudence. Your grandson isn't fit enough to marry a shoe shiners daughter, let alone Marquess Bedelia Du Maurier." 

Prudence gripped the armrest of her seat; skeletal fingers wrapped tightly around the velvet lined metal. "Are you implying Frederick  
will marry a commoner?"

Grace placed her hand against her chest in false horror. "Of course not." Prudence's fingers slowly released there grasp, only to tighten once more when Grace continued. "I meant to say a commoner could do better." She continued, ignoring Prudence's indignant gasp. "I for one am proud of the new marquess. She has proved herself to be worthy of the position." 

Hannibal wanted to kiss the woman for her valiant defense of the woman he held in high esteem. 

"Grace!" gasped Franny. "She has no sense of decorum!" Franny leaned forward, fanning herself with a fan she withdrew from her handbag. "I heard she shared the bed of some countess during her stay in France." 

Prudence released her iron grip as she offered her own opinion. "A Marquess shouldn't behave the way she does." 

Grace huffed, "Oh please! I didn't hear you and Franny complaining while you scarfed down the chocolate she negotiated to be sent to England after her trip to..."

The sound of the train whistle blowing masked any further conversation between the three women. 

Hannibal turned his attention to the window in time to see the last of the greenery before a tunnel obscured his view. 

 

Dense clouds hung low in the sky, embracing the hills of Yorkshire England like a distant love returning from a long trip away. Accompanied by the slight early morning chill, the low-hanging clouds extended over the lush green pastures towards the large stables and manor. 

Hannibal admired the view of Bedelia's estate as his hired coach ambled down the road. As the carriage drew closer to the manor, Hannibal could make out the prized Du Maurier horses milling about the enclosed pastures. The estate, albeit beautiful, fell short in matching the beauty of the woman standing at the foot of the entryway stairs. 

Bedelia and Hannibal matched stares as they waited for the carriage to depart around the bend. 

"I planned on going for a ride." Hannibal took in her riding attire, from her knee-high leather brown boots and loose-fitting trousers to the tucked in white blouse and tweed jacket. "Would you care to join me?"  
Hannibal smiled. "It would be my pleasure." 

They rode side by side in companionable silence until they left the manor and prying eyes far behind them.  
"I overheard the most interesting conversation on the train today." Hannibal watched her from the corner of his eye, enjoying the twitch of her mouth and the slight raise of her eyebrow.  
"Really? I never considered you to be one to spread idle gossip, Hannibal."  
"Gossip it may be, but the topic of said gossip was far too intriguing to resist."  
Bedelia's eyes danced with amusement. "Well then, do tell me of the idle gossip interesting enough to catch the attention of the great Count Lecter." 

"Three women were chatting about the new Marquess," Hannibal stated as they directed the horses towards a clearing in the distance.

Bedelia chuckled. "I hardly think the Marquess is new. She's had the position for a year now." 

Hannibal smiled. "One of the ladies, who was in favor of the new Marquess, said she is quite chummy with the Queen."

"Anything else?" Bedelia hummed in response. 

Hannibal urged his horse forward to match the slight increase in the pace set by Bedelia. 

"Well, one spiteful woman mentioned a refused proposal and another, slightly exuberant woman, mentioned an affair with a French countess."

Bedelia chortled. "It could hardly be considered a proposal. He cornered me at a ball in an awful peacock colored suit and gave me a speech about how he could lessen my work burden. As for the Queen, she is a dear friend my mine. A friend who is very much in love with her husband."

At her refusal of there being a proposal, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He didn't like the idea of her marrying anyone, let alone the grandson of that horrid woman.

"And the Countess?" He poked, curious to see what weight the assertion held. 

Bedelia gave him a devilish smirk. "A Dutchess actually."

Bedelia's horse shot forward, leaving Hannibal behind with only the sound her laughter. 

Hannibal urged his horse after her. It was time to test the speed the Du Maurier horses were famed for. 

Bedelia reached the clearing seconds before he did, a triumphant on smile her lips.  
"Unless I'm mistaken, I do believe I won."

Hannibal dismounted and moved forward to assist her off her horse. He knew his assistance was not needed, but it didn't stop him from offering his help. Her body brushed against his own as he placed her firmly on the ground. Bedelia rested her gloved hands on his shoulders, and his hands lingered at her waist. "It seems you're losing your touch, Hannibal." 

He pulled her closer. "I'm not surprised by the outcome. Not only are you worthy of your title as Marquess, but you are also a worthy adversary."  
Hannibal may have lost the race, but the pinkish hue alighting Bedelia's cheeks was victory enough. A smile from Bedelia was no small feat, but a blush well that in its own right was worth more than the jewels on the King's crown.  
Hannibal relished her now pinkish complexion as she stepped back from him. The loss of her touch soothed by the sight of the blush spreading down her neck. Hannibal offered his arm to her as they made their way to the stone bench which rested in the shade of several large trees. 

Hannibal admired the powerful figures of the horses grazing a few feet away. Bedelia broke the comfortable silence. "Your horse," she said pointing at the dark gray horse he'd borrowed. "is an Andalusian breed. He came all the way from Spain. Orpheus was by no means easy to obtain, but he was worth the money spent," Bedelia stated proudly. 

Hannibal smiled. "And what of your horse?"

The Marquess smirked. "Rhea hails from the middle east. She's an Arabian breed of horse known for their endurance and speed." Bedelia frowned as she continued. "Some idiot smuggled her and her brother here on a boat when they were foals. He didn't prepare well enough for the trip, so by the time they docked the foals were malnourished, and she was on the brink of death. He took the male foal and left her behind. A connection I have at the dock brought her to me, and I nursed her back to health." 

Hannibal laughed. "I imagine the smuggler hasn't come by to claim her."  
"He wouldn't dare," Bedelia responded with a smile on her face as she removed her riding gloves.  
Hannibal reached for her now gloveless hand. "You're staying in town," Bedelia remarked as he traced her lifeline. 

"It would've been presumptuous of me to arrive with my luggage in hand," Hannibal remarked as he raised her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her wrist. 

"Your concern is appreciated Hannibal, but I assure you I do not care about gossip. There is a room ready for you back at the manor," Bedelia stated firmly. 

Hannibal drew her closer until she was pressed against his side with her arms around his neck. "I'll send for my things promptly."

 

Much later, secure in Hannibal's embrace, Bedelia confessed her fears. "The rumors have some truth. There is a war coming, Hannibal and its coming fast." She placed her hand over his heart. The gentle rhythm soothed her. "The Queen has asked for my presence. I'm to leave for the palace in a month."

Hannibal pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her closer. He knew Bedelia didn't want words of comfort, but that didn't stop him from wishing he could say something that would calm her fears. 

"How long are you planning to stay?" Bedelia whispered.

Hannibal didn't hesitate. "I'll stay for as long as you want me." The smile he felt against his chest assured him that his answer was correct. 

Hannibal had no intention of leaving Bedelia's side. When the whispers of war reached him, he made the arrangements necessary to come to England for as long as Bedelia needed him. If she accepted his proposal, he would never again leave her side.


End file.
